


Premeditated

by Anonymous



Series: Greedy [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Being Walked In On, Complicated Power Dynamics, Creampie, Dry Orgasm, Extremely Underage, Half-Sibling Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Mentioned Krolia (Voltron), Mentioned Lance (Voltron), Mentioned Shiro's Dad, Other mentioned characters but it's just Shiro and Keith, Rimming, Sex Talk, Some Plot, Unrealistic Sex, Unreasonably long description of an orgasm, author regrets everything, okay now the juicy stuff, tagged rape bc of age but both parties enjoy it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25373332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "It wasn’t premeditated. Shiro knows he’s a sick man, so he clings to this one fact as if it will redeem him. It hadn’t crossed his mind until Keith himself brought it up, all innocence and trust and not a drop of fear."akaBrain: Hey remember that super filthy underage Sheith porn you wrote after having a questionable dream and there's a throwaway line about Shiro fingering 6-year-old Keith?? Yeah you should write thatMe: What no I'm not going to write thatNarrator: She wrote it.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Greedy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837477
Comments: 10
Kudos: 132
Collections: anonymous





	Premeditated

**Author's Note:**

> STOP KEITH IS SIX!! FUCKING!!! YEARS OLD!!!! AND SHIRO!! IS!!! NOT!!!!  
> Both parties enjoy absolutely every second of the sex, but I literally cannot stress enough how messed up this is so...you've been warned 
> 
> Shiro is not a predator in this per se...there are other dynamics in play that I won't spoil, Shiro makes a lot of justifications for his actions, and I tried to make him as uncomfortably in character as possible, so it's worth noting that Shiro's opinions are not my opinions and Shiro is definitely a Bad Guy in this. Newsflash: fucking kids is wrong, end of story.
> 
> You can read "Greedy" before or after this, and this is technically a prequel, but I highly suggest reading "Greedy" first for, y'know, artistic reasons

It wasn’t premeditated. Shiro knows he’s a sick man, so he clings to this one fact as if it will redeem him.

It wasn’t premeditated. It hadn’t crossed his mind until Keith himself brought it up, all innocence and trust and not a drop of fear.

It wasn’t premeditated, Shiro had just been running through his routine: lunch, guard training, then back to his room to jerk off before a bath. He sat up against the headboard, leggings pulled down to his thighs and legs as spread as they could get. He was hard, of course, length dripping. He had his head tilted back, eyes closed. He was big enough that he needed to fist both hands over himself and that’s exactly what he was doing, excessive pre squelching between his fingers and running past his knuckles. He was maybe three-quarters of the way there and well entrenched in the fantasy that the sounds and sensations coming from below were from someone else’s tight, sucking heat and not just his own hands. 

It wasn’t premeditated, but it ends up being the last time he ever has to rely on imagination alone.

He doesn’t let himself think too much about how things might have been different; if Keith hadn’t been bored with his lessons that day, if Iverson had been more diligent, if Keith had decided to go somewhere else after slipping away from his tutor—the kitchen, the stables, the gardens, any of them were equally likely.

But no, Keith had decided to use his stolen free time to barge through his half-brother’s door, because really, there was no place in the castle that the blessed little crown prince was barred from.

Shiro panicked, naturally, and it became immediately clear that he needed more experience in the field, because it was quite embarrassing for a knight-in-training’s panic to manifest as frozen shock instead of action. It was a full six seconds after the door banged against the wall of his quarters—one for each year of Keith’s life to that point, Christ—before Shiro regained enough presence of mind to scramble for his pants, his bedding, a towel, _anything_ , but it was already too late. Prince Keith, preternaturally fascinated with everything his older brother did, was already at the bedside, eyes wide and luminous with curiosity as he stared at Shiro’s wet cock.

“Whoa,” he breathed, “...big…”

Shiro choked a little but couldn’t deny it.

“Are all grown-ups’ things this big? Will mine get this big??”

Shiro swallowed before croaking, “It’s called a dick, or a penis,” like that was the important thing to point out. “Or cock,” he stupidly went on, all the blood meant for his brain apparently still in his dick or penis or cock.

Keith was suitably unimpressed.

“That’s not what I asked,” he said, eyes narrowed and Brat Mode engaged.

Somehow, witnessing the return of surly, whiny Keith broke Shiro out of his stupor. He knew Keith was stubborn and used to getting what he wanted, so there was no doubt that Keith would just keep asking until Shiro’s patience wore out. Besides, he reasoned, he’d probably be the one to give Keith “The Talk”, anyway—he almost laughed at the thought of Queen Krolia attempting to do so—it would just be a tad early.

Oh well. Princes were expected to grow up fast.

Keith insisted that Shiro not hide his cock “as a visual aid” and kept up a steady volley of “why”s and “how”s. So Shiro patted the bed in invitation and sat there with Keith, inexplicably hard dick still out, giving explanations he never thought he’d have to give to someone so young. (It wasn’t premeditated.)

Shiro explained that he couldn’t say for certain how big Keith would get, but no, most adult penises were actually far smaller than Shiro’s. His dick was even bigger now because it was hard. His dick was hard because he was aroused. He was aroused because his body wanted to make babies. To make a baby, he would have to put his penis inside of a woman, and that would be difficult if his penis was soft. No, Shiro was not planning on putting his penis inside of a woman. When Keith walked in, he had been tricking his body into thinking his penis was inside of a woman so his arousal would go away. Yes, sometimes arousal was uncomfortable. It went away when he ejaculated. Ejaculating is when a special liquid needed to make babies comes out of a dick. Yes, the same place pee does. 

...and on and on it went.

“So mom had sex so she could make you and me…?”

And Shiro paused before venturing, “Well, not exactly. A lot of people have sex even when they don’t want a baby...because it feels good.”

“Feels good?”

“Yeah. Some people want a baby and inadvertently feel good during the process, and some people want to feel good and inadvertently get a baby.”

“Wait, so which is it for us?”

A pause. 

“...you know what they call me, right, Keith?” 

Keith looked away for a second, not because he was trying to think of the answer, but because he already knew it.

Finally, small and resigned, “Bastard.”

“Yes.” He tilted Keith’s chin up so he would meet his eyes.

“Do you know what that means?” he asked solemnly. 

Keith sniffed, on the verge of tears, though Shiro surmised it was probably from the unfamiliar mood of the room and not from a total understanding of the subject.

“It means,” Shiro continued, “that you were wanted, and I was inadvertent.” 

The pool of tears in one of Keith’s big, dark eyes spilled over. Shiro wasn’t sure what for, exactly. Sympathy, for him? Picking up on one of Shiro’s rare low moods? Distress at not understanding? Overwhelmed with information?

Shiro would never know, because Keith ducked to hide the shining streaks on his face and interrupted his own sadness with a surprised, “Oh. It’s smaller.”

Shiro dumbly looked down and indeed, somewhere during this upsetting conversation, he’d finally gone soft. He chuckled breathily in relief and started to tuck himself away, but Keith tried to stop him by starting a ridiculous tug-of-war with the top of his leggings.

“Wait! I wanna—”

“Keith, hey! I thought—”

Suddenly, one of Keith’s hands left his pants and was now on his dick proper. The touch was warm and soft and strangely confident because Keith was an impulsive kid, and Shiro’s throat seized around his next words because something bizarre happened.

Keith was staring with wide, still wet eyes at his own tiny hand slowly dragging Shiro’s foreskin down. Keith didn’t even blink until the shiny head was fully exposed. Then Keith whispered an awed “wow”, finally taking a long, deliberate blink before locking his eyes with Shiro’s and reiterating, “Wow, it’s still so different from mine!” Shiro _knew_ teenagers could get hard at the drop of a hat, he knew weird things could cause (and kill) arousal, but he still felt horrible and a special brand of ridiculous when his dick promptly filled out in his brother’s too-small hand.

Keith’s eyes flicked back down to Shiro’s crotch with a delighted, “It moved!” and Shiro kind of wanted to just come already and also for the orgasm to kill him.

Keith’s brows furrowed as he continued to toy with Shiro’s thickening cock and ordered his thoughts.

“Hey,” he haltingly began, “so. Your penis is getting...hard? Which means you’re aroused. So, does your body think I’m a woman?”

Shiro tensed.

“Oh! And when you went smaller before, that meant you were no longer aroused,” Keith now had both hands working on Shiro’s dick, “so did you ejaculate? Did I miss it?”

Shiro finally put his hands on Keith’s wrists and carefully but firmly pulled them off. Keith had a weird motley expression of disappointment, confusion, and apology.

Shiro did his best to smile reassuringly as he said, “I can’t answer questions as you do that. It’s hard to think.”

“Oh.” Keith pondered this. “Because it...feels good?”

“Yes.” 

“Oh,” Keith said, differently this time. Now he looked pleased and eager and maybe a little bit smug.

“Yeah, so.” Shiro sighed, “Broadly speaking, yes, my body was preparing to make a baby, which I can only do with a woman, but I’m gay, so for me and other people like me, I’ll never be able to actually do that because women don’t arouse me, only boys do.”

“Boys...like me?” Keith asked.

“Wha—no! Not like, not like _you_ ; well, yes, you are a boy so kind of like you but not _specifically—_ ” Shiro floundered, “I mean, I messed up, I meant men! Men! Sorry, ‘boys’ might have been confusing, I like _men,_ grown men.”

“So you don’t...like me?” Keith’s voice was small.

Shiro was starting to reach a level of frustration he usually only felt around Slav, but at himself. He tried very hard to not show it in his face, lest Keith think it was directed at him.

“No, no, of course I like you, Keith! I love you! You’re my little brother! Like,” Shiro thought, “you like Lance, right? But you don’t want to kiss him and have sex with him!”

Keith cocked his head. “I’d kiss Lance,” he said, matter-of-fact, and okay, they’d unpack _that_ later, “but you’re right, I guess I don’t want to have sex with him.”

“ _Of course you don’t, Keith!_ ” Shiro exploded. “ _You’re_ _six!_ I know you think you’re mature, and maybe your brain is, but that’s only part of you. No matter how clever you are, or how much information Iverson crams in there,” he poked Keith’s forehead, “your body is just gonna be where it’s at. This is a _body_ thing, Keith, and it just can’t be rushed.”

Keith pouted, looking for a rebuttal. Finding none, he instead asked, “When?”

Shiro shrugged. “When will your body mature? I don’t know. When you’re grown.”

Keith whipped his head to squint at Shiro. “But you’re not grown,” he accused. 

Shiro raised an eyebrow, “More grown than you.”

Keith picked at the bedspread and grumbled, “How grown is ‘grown’?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you liked grown men.” Keith didn’t hide behind his bangs, flush, or look away. He met Shiro’s eyes with his typical impulsive confidence as he said, “How grown do I need to be for you to like me?”

“Okay, no,” Shiro began, and oh, how Keith’s eyes sparked with defiance at that. “I think I see the misunderstanding here. I like grown men, yes, but specifically grown men who are not related to me. People don’t get aroused by people they’re related to.”

“Why not?”

“They just don’t.”

Shiro saw the flaw in his argument and hoped that Keith wouldn’t. To his dismay, Keith’s critical thinking seemed to be sharp enough as he said, slowly, “But...you did get aroused?”

“Yes, well—”

“And anyway,” Keith continued, voice low and too sad and sardonic for someone his age, “a lot of people say we aren’t real brothers anyhow.”

“Hey,” Shiro interjected, “Keith. Those people are _wrong_.”

Keith didn’t look at him.

“Keith,” he said again, with enough conviction to get Keith’s head to turn, “they’re _wrong_ . They’re _wrong_ , okay? We could have not a single drop of blood in common and we’d still be brothers. You could kick me out of the castle as soon as you become king and we’d still be brothers. Hell, I could,” he swallowed, “I could be weird and get hard around you and we’d still be brothers, we could...”

“We could have...sex? and we’d still be brothers?” Keith finished for him.

Shiro cleared his throat, “Yeah. So don’t—don’t worry about that, okay?”

Shiro plopped his hand on Keith’s perpetually unruly hair, and Keith turned his pretty gaze up to Shiro. 

Shiro smiled and said, “Really, don’t worry about anything we talked about today. Like I said, as grown-up as you seem sometimes, there’s still a lot that a little boy doesn’t need to know. I mean, a lot of people go their whole lives not really knowing how gay sex works, so—”

“How _does_ it work?” Keith asked, and Shiro sighed because he should have seen that one coming.

“No, we’re done,” he said, desperately trying to end the conversation.

“ _Please_ ,” Keith whined, because even when he was polite, he was a brat. “You know I’ll just keep bothering you,” he reminded Shiro, and Shiro knew that it wasn’t an empty threat. “I know women have a hole instead of a penis, so they kind of fit together, but how do two men fit together?”

Shiro sighed even as he took the bait, “Same thing. Dick in hole.”

Keith looked at him like Shiro hadn’t understood the question, “What hol—!”

Shiro grabbed Keith, flipped him on his stomach, and playfully swatted his butt. “What hole do you think?” he asked, seeing the opportunity to tease Keith and end the conversation.

Keith’s eyes widened, “You mean the bu—”

“The butt!” Shiro confirmed.

“Where...poop comes ou—?”

“ _Where poop comes out!_ ” Shiro crowed, triumphant smile in place as he waited for Keith’s grossed out reaction. He wasn’t sure how it would look exactly, if all the curious light would suddenly vanish from Keith’s face with a deadpan “gross”, or if maybe Keith would squirm around and leave the room, or maybe he would hit Shiro and accuse him of lying. No matter what, he hoped it brought the blessed end of this discussion.

But because Keith was unpredictable, he did none of those things, just stared off contemplatively before calmly saying, “Makes sense.”

“‘ _Makes sense’?!_ ”

“Yeah,” Keith hummed, “I mean, it always feels good when the attendants clean down there.”

_What._

“What.”

Keith’s head swiveled, chin resting in his hands. Unsure what the question was, Keith elaborated, “You know? My attendants? They help me bathe and dress and stuff?”

His confusion only mounting at Shiro’s silence, Keith continued skeptically, “Surely you’ve met Chuchule?”

“I know who your attendants are, Keith,” Shiro spoke, face scarily blank.

“Okay, yeah? It feels good when they rub the soap there and squirt water inside.”

Face still blank, Shiro leaned in towards Keith, placing a hand on his lower back as he intoned, “‘Good’ how?”

Fascinated with his strange intensity, Keith watched Shiro’s expression as he mused, “Dunno, different from when the rest of my body gets cleaned.” He fought for the right words, “Tingly and kind of...warm? But also shivery.” He tapped the sides of his face in thought, “I always want them to keep going a little longer, but it seemed weird to ask.”

Shiro’s face was still inscrutable, so Keith glanced at the rest of him. “You’re hard again,” he said, now desensitized to the sight.

Shiro swallowed. “Yeah.”

Shiro felt almost as if he could actually see Keith putting the pieces together, the cogs clicking into place and slowly churning out a conclusion.

“Shiro,” Keith started, “if this,” and Shiro actually gulped as Keith touched what was presumably his own hole through his clothes, “is a place used for sex, and I feel good when it’s touched, is that...arousal?”

“I don’t know.” It felt like all of Shiro’s seconds tripled in length as he dropped the heavy words, “But, it sure sounds like it.”

The very picture of wonder, Keith asked, “Shiro, does sex feel like that shivery feeling?”

“Um, yes. But. More?”

“ _More?_ ”

Keith suddenly sat up, gravity causing Shiro’s hand to slip to Keith’s ass. He quickly shifted away from Keith entirely, only for him to get right up in his face and proclaim, “ _I want it.”_

“Want—?” Shiro asked, already knowing the answer and feeling faint.

“Sex! I wanna try! You know how, right, Shiro? This is gonna be awesome,” Keith said, already pulling his pants down.

“Wait, Keith, no, this isn’t—” Shiro tried, but Keith was now sprawled across the bed, skin glowing pale against the duvet.

“Shiro, come _on_ ,” Keith pleaded, like this was just another treat Shiro was withholding because it would spoil his dinner. Shiro leapt from the bed, intending to just leave. 

He intended to leave. He would have to, because Keith wouldn’t. And Shiro was going to do it, because no matter how doting he was as a brother, no matter how much he indulged Keith—and Shiro would give Keith _the world_ , he really would—and no matter how much his dick seemed to disagree, this was wrong. It was _bad. Immoral. Disgusting_ . What’s more, he could _hurt_ Keith. He could lose control (a control he didn’t know he was capable of losing) because Keith really did look so damn good on his bed. 

It wasn’t premeditated, but suffice it to say, Shiro didn’t leave.

In the end, it wasn’t his achingly hard dick that convinced him to stay. It wasn’t his habit of indulgence, or his love for Keith, or even the small peek Shiro caught of Keith’s sweet, pink hole. Shiro might have been able to walk out of the room that day had he not glimpsed the crest carved in his headboard.

The Black Lion Crest—the royal crest—was inescapable in the castle. It was everywhere: furniture, cutlery, tapestries, and most of Shiro’s official vestments. Shiro saw the crest, right there above Keith’s naked body, and thought about how he would get to carry the crest on a shield, but Keith would have it on a throne. Shiro didn’t begrudge Keith his inheritance, but a dark, bitter part of him couldn’t help but seethe how _right_ he was for rule, how _good_ he’d be as king. 

Shiro looked down at his cock, smirking grimly at the huge, twitching length. His whore father had probably had one like it. It had to have been impressive for him to be Queen Krolia’s favored concubine. Shiro grit his teeth, a rare, righteous fury building within him. Rage at his circumstances, for being what they were; at Queen Krolia, for seeing his father merely as a dick to bounce on instead of an equal; at Keith, for blithely accepting all of his privilege as a matter of course…

And something inside Shiro—snapped—because he had been robbed of his full potential before he even got a chance to show it. Shiro could feel it in his bones, that he was built to rule, built to lead. 

But, Shiro also knew that he was built to love Keith. Wholly, unconditionally, without question. Shiro’s desire to prove himself worthy of power and his lineage would never supersede that love. Shiro had read legends and novels, seen performances by travelling players, that dramatized families like his, drenching them in greed and violence. Fratricide. Shiro never understood them, because there was absolutely nothing in the world that could make him hurt Keith. Nothing in the world that could make him want to. 

Shiro knew the crown would never be his, and he would cope, but that didn’t make it _fair_. 

He looked at the Black Lion Crest and reflected that even if he made the right choice, didn’t go down this path, walked away, acted like a _decent man_...Keith, by his birthright, could just order him back.

_How poetic_ , Shiro thought, as he numbly walked to his bedside table and took a vial of oil from the drawer, _for another generation of Shiroganes to be called to service the royal house._

Shiro kneeled on the bed and Keith smiled up at him, all pleased and saccharine. Shiro reaffirmed his promise to himself to never hurt Keith.

But if Keith enjoyed it, well.

If Keith _loved it_ …

If Keith proved himself to be as much a prodigy in this as he was in other subjects...well, Shiro could make himself indispensable to the kingdom in another way. 

Giving Keith a reassuring smile and a kiss to his nape, Shiro began.

He put his hands on Keith’s little ass and spread the cheeks wide. Keith squeaked and Shiro no longer bothered to temper his hunger as he watched the tight furl tense and release one, two, three times. The flesh barely filling his hands was pert, and the skin of Keith’s cleft was utterly smooth and as pale as the rest of him. He moved his thumb to brush against the hole, pleased when Keith sharply inhaled below him. 

“Good?” Shiro asked, already knowing from Keith’s expression that everything was more than fine on his end.

Keith’s only response was to melt his body into the bed with a pleased _mmm._

Shiro chuckled and rubbed a few firmer circles around the pucker. Keith was smaller and tighter than any of the twinks he had picked up in the city, so Shiro leaned down to get him loosened up.

Keith tensed when he felt Shiro’s breath and shivered when the very tip of his tongue gave a delicate lick right at his center. He felt sensitive and all too aware of a part of his body he didn’t think about much beyond relieving himself and the mysteriously-sort-of-pleasant cleanings. 

Shiro framed his hole with two fingers and pressed firmly to spread it. He brought his thumb down to Keith’s taint—and he really was so very small that it was hardly a reach—and worked it in small circles. He kept the stimulation on the little rosebud itself light and fleeting, small kitten licks right at where the muscle converged, just barely hinting at how sensitive Keith’s insides might be.

“Shiro,” Keith gasped, “I’m already feeling a little shivery…”

“Mm, that so?” Shiro hummed before covering Keith’s hole in an open-mouthed kiss and giving a light suck. 

Keith’s hips shot a few inches off the bed as his back arched, a whine punched out of him. Shiro took the opportunity to prop Keith up by his lower belly, his spread hand spanning from hip bone to hip bone. Keith allowed it and got his knees under him to better lilt his lower half for Shiro’s access. Keith’s little stub of a boy cock, still shy with phimosis, brushed Shiro’s forearm. Shiro smirked a little and made no move to touch it, burning to discover just how far Keith’s anal talent went.

At the first insistent prod of Shiro’s tongue, Keith went very still, nothing about him moving but fine, involuntary tremors and his hole’s irregular pulsing. He didn’t know what to do with his limbs and he was sure his face was doing very strange things as his body’s perception narrowed in on the sensation.

Shiro dragged his tongue in and out, slowly. It was wet and easy, naturally, but even a human tongue had some texture, and Shiro made sure Keith felt that slight friction on his rim. In and out, in and out, the light pop of slick muscle gently fucking a tight clutch offset by Keith’s choked panting, the occasional catch in his vocal chords producing a filthy soprano wheeze. 

Shiro pressed his tongue in as far as it would go, then boldly curled it down. Keith managed to moan on an inhale, and used his exhale to breathe an uncharacteristic, “Oh my god—” 

Shiro just used the last of his mouth strength to keep worrying that spot as he blindly patted the bed beside him for the oil. 

Shiro retracted his tongue and gave a last suck to the reddened rim, relishing the feeling of the wrinkles unfurling a bit with the suction. He sat back to uncap the vial and slick his fingers. Keith visibly lost tension across his back and shoulders with a sigh somewhere between disappointment and relief. 

Keith turned a watery gaze on him, so Shiro asked, “Still good?”

Keith tried to reply but found his mouth and throat dry from panting. He nodded instead, swallowing a few times so he could croak, “What now?”

“Well, you seemed amenable to my tongue,” Shiro looked on as Keith’s flush spread to the tips of his ears, “so next, we’ll see how you like my fingers.”

He brought his slick fingers back to Keith’s cleft, rubbing the pale skin around his entrance. He watched the pull of skin stretch and compress like a parting mouth, a little hint of Keith’s darker red insides peeking between the wrinkles as they pulled taut. He circled in towards that delicious cherry center and just played there for a while. He tapped at it, letting the pad of his index finger form a little wet seal as he pulled away. Each time, Keith’s ass gave a little involuntary squeeze, and Shiro wondered if his insides were searching for something to push back against them.

Shiro hesitated with his finger poised to enter. “I’m gonna try and go inside a little,” he murmured. “Push out like when they clean you.”

He carefully pressed forward, intending to just get a little bit of the tip inside, but Keith suddenly relaxed all at once and opened like a dream. Shiro found himself just pressing deeper into Keith’s slutty body until his knuckle brushed the rim. It had been so _easy_ , so hot and buttery, that he was caught off guard when Keith’s insides suddenly clamped down.

For Keith’s part, he knew how to consciously relax himself, and he really concentrated as Shiro’s finger slid inside, but once he felt the broad of Shiro’s hand at his entrance, and he thought about how that meant Shiro’s finger was _inside him_ , his _whole finger_ —and Shiro had big hands—his concentration shattered. He tensed so forcefully, as he never had before, and at the feel of something inside stopping his walls from coming together, slightly cooler than himself and unyielding, waves of shivers erupted from his hips and the tops of his shoulders. They rolled through his belly and met at his heart, which gave a deep, unequivocal _thud,_ and Keith made a sound that he never had before, seemingly squeezed out by the flex of his insides and completely unbidden. 

It felt so _good_ , like all of his insides were hollow except for Shiro’s finger. He did it again, on purpose this time, and yes, god, the shivery feeling was so good and his head felt light and hazy and it just felt so right to roll his hips in little circles and pulse his ass.

Shiro watched Keith’s body take its pleasure from just a single finger, dick blurting precome at the sight. Keith was rocking his hips like he wanted to ride Shiro’s finger and his walls were milking it like it had anything to give. He saw with some surprise that Keith’s little dick was even chubbed up a bit, which Shiro hadn’t thought was even possible.

Shiro palmed his own dick as he waited for Keith to settle a bit. When his body relaxed again, Shiro slowly withdrew, his callused finger rasping against the sensitive rim. Keith hummed and twitched. He was so _responsive_ , and Shiro found himself watching Keith’s shoulder blades shift under the smooth skin of his back. 

“Relax again,” he instructed, and Keith blew out a hot breath as Shiro’s finger slid right back in. 

Shiro rocked his finger in and out with tiny movements. For now, he simply followed the curve of Keith’s passage, letting his body acclimate to the sensation. Keith stopped moaning, but his panting and little hard cock betrayed his arousal. 

Just when Keith became lulled by the rhythm, subtly rocking his hips, Shiro paused and pushed on Keith’s front wall. Keith was still mid-rock, so Shiro’s press was rendered an insistent drag down the front of the channel.

Keith jackknifed as something inside him got pressed. It was warm and overwhelming and made him feel like his pelvis had expanded. He groaned and when Shiro brought his thumb back to that space behind his balls and squeezed as if he could touch the digit inside, he whined Shiro’s name.

With that, Shiro promptly pulled out, flipped Keith on his back, and pushed right back in to start fingering him properly.

Keith was flushed and glowing, legs splayed wide with the flexibility of youth and not an ounce of shame. His hole was properly red now, gripping Shiro’s finger and squishing with oil on each thrust. 

With a quiet warning, Shiro lined up a second finger and pressed past Keith’s entrance, the ring slackening obediently, like that of a practiced whore. Keith sharply inhaled at the stretch and Shiro got to watch the whole process over again.

Shiro experimented until he found a steady pace and angle that caused Keith to rock his hips and moan on every exhale. He looked incredible, arms thrown above his head, biting his lip, and tiny body twitching in time with Shiro’s motions. It was the hottest thing Shiro had ever seen, because it wasn’t performative or affected—Keith had no concrete knowledge of what _to_ perform or affect—this was all just Keith reacting to his own body and everything Shiro was doing to it.

Shiro felt as if he could do this forever, and it almost felt like he did. Time stretched and slowed and everything felt surreal as Shiro fucked Keith with steady _splotch splotch_ es and Keith’s voice—young, so young—gasped nasty little encouragements like _mm_ , _yes_ , and _feels good_.

Suddenly, Keith got very quiet. His moans ceased and his breathing turned shallow. His hips started to slowly rise from the bed, all of his movements measured and careful as his body desperately tried to maintain the conditions for the wave of sensation washing over him.

Keith’s body went numb except for the herds of tingles drifting over his skin and the bright ball of sensation that was growing in his guts at the apex of Shiro’s thrusts. Every deep jab pushed it a bit bigger, a bit hotter, and it felt like it should burst but it only kept growing.

Shiro watched Keith’s eyes flick unseeing and kept the pace of his thrusts. He was stock still aside from his rising hips and weakly twitching dick, and Shiro looked on in awe at Keith experiencing what was surely the start of his first orgasm. It went on and on, Keith’s pleasure a bubble that Shiro was determined not to pop too early.

Ten seconds, twenty seconds, and Keith wasn’t even breathing, his hips a good foot off the mattress now and barely trembling as Shiro relentlessly continued to fuck Keith at the same steady pace, squelching in Keith’s slack hole.

Thirty seconds, forty, and if Keith had the presence of mind to be scared, he would be. All he saw was white, all he heard was ringing, and the bubble of pleasure was so big now, it barely fit in his lower abdomen. 

His ass, his hole, his insides all felt swollen and hollow, blistering and icy. The bubble was big, bigger than him, he couldn’t hold it, he couldn’t—

At forty-five seconds, it burst.

Shiro’s only warning was a desperate, reedy gasp before the hole around his fingers became a vice and Keith _convulsed_. His hips curled down with the arch of his back, then shot back up, over and over, while Shiro took to finally pounding blindingly fast into Keith’s fluttering insides, doggedly moving with Keith so he couldn’t escape the devastating angle.

Keith slammed back into his body with a vengeance, aware of every thrashing part of himself, the choked vibrations of his throat as he found his voice again. Shiro kept hitting whatever it was inside of him that made the trembling go on and on. It was too much and he didn’t want it to ever end.

Shiro pressed on Keith’s lower belly to hold his hips down, and Keith’s body gave another sweet throb as it pressed his insides harder into Shiro’s still-thrusting fingers. 

His hips still twitched without his permission, but Keith was finally able to lift his head from where it had been thrown back. The sight of Shiro watching his own fingers drive into his slopping hole made another wave of tingles race down his spine and Keith moaned a sweet, “Shiro”.

Shiro finally slowed his pace and looked up at Keith. He was an absolute mess, but given that his orgasm had been entirely dry, it could have been much worse. Possessed by the sight, he leaned in to gently kiss Keith’s mouth, his fingers still lazily stirring his hole.

Shiro pulled back to watch as he removed his fingers, easily slipping out of Keith’s fucked loose insides. The opening breathed with Keith, and Shiro couldn’t tear his eyes away as he finally brought his slick hand to his own cock.

He stripped a single fist hard and fast over the head, eyes wandering from Keith’s dazed face, to his little brown bud nipples, his soft cocklet, and inevitably coming back to his sloppy, twitching hole. He wouldn’t need much to get there; he was already feeling his balls draw up in anticipation of release.

Panting heavily, he brought the head of his cock to Keith’s hole. He only pressed in enough for Keith’s messy rim to form a seal at the head, but that was all he needed.

Right at the precipice now, he looked down and choked out to Keith, “Relax again.”

And Keith, totally trusting and not at all disturbed by this development, blinked his hooded eyes up at Shiro, and did.

Shiro’s eyes rolled up and, with only two fingers on his dick, came. He shuddered and grunted as jet after jet spurted out, the afterimage of Keith’s ecstasy on the backs of his eyelids.

Keith whined as his lax passage was filled, minute tremors running through his thighs. Shiro blinked his eyes open, so Keith locked eyes with him as he unabashedly moaned. Shiro tensed and Keith hummed in content as another hot splash joined the mess inside him.

Sighing, Shiro pulled back, tapping his dick against Keith to get the last blurt of his come to frost the parts of Keith’s insides that were now outside.

He looked up at Keith, but he was already passed out.

Dumbly, Shiro brought his hand to Keith’s ass, glistening with oil and cum alike. He scooped up some of his own fluid leaking down Keith’s crease. For a moment, he stared at his hand, watched the cum drip down, still warm from both his and Keith’s bodies.

Then, hand shaking but sure, he leaned forward to touch the headboard, smearing the Black Lion Crest with his own white.

-

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> "Everything in the world is about sex—except sex. Sex is about power."  
> -Oscar Wilde


End file.
